'What's that?' Sechen demanded.
'An evil spirit,' Koja answered hastily. 'It attacked the khahan. Now let me help!'
The Tuigan warriors looked at each other, each hoping the other had an answer.
'Very well,' Sechen decided, 'but if he dies, you die.' He squatted near the lama to watch his every move.
Koja quickly set to work. 'Get the bag off my horse,' he ordered. The standard-bearer hurriedly fetched the bag, passing it to Sechen.
The first problem was the poison. Taking an herb from his bag, the lama pressed his hands on the lance wound and uttered a prayer. There was a heat beneath his palms as the spell began to take effect. 'The khahan's been poisoned. I cannot stop the venom right now, but I have slowed the poison to keep it from killing him out here. This may give me time to pray for a cure.' Koja carefully explained everything he did to defuse Sechen's suspicions.
That finished, he examined the wounds again. They were bad, but probably not serious enough to kill the khahan. Still, if Furo allowed, it was best to heal them now. Bowing his head in prayer, the priest counted out a rosary on his beads. When he completed the plea to Furo, Koja's hands itched and trembled with the power coursing in them. Gently he placed a palm on each wound, then pressed them down firmly. Yamun stirred and groaned under the pain. Blood seeped through the lama's fingers. The heat once again grew under Koja's hands, this time stronger and lasting longer.
Sechen sucked in his breath through his teeth. 'Look. His wounds are closing,' he whispered. Pinkish-white skin grew before Sechen's eyes, knitting the wounds shut and leaving only a slight scar. At last, Koja took a deep breath of relief and took his hands away. He tore off another shred of his robe, spit into it, and daubed away the blood and fluid to check his handiwork. Koja watched the khahan's chest rise and fall until he was satisfied the man slept quietly.
'The khahan is better,' Koja explained as he sat back in the dirt, shaking from exhaustion. 'However, the poison is still in him, and he could still die. Can you take him back to camp?'
Sechen nodded. He looked at the priest in wonder.
'Are you sure? What about the battle?' the lama asked.
'You saw. This battle is over. We won. Prince Jad and Goyuk Khan will finish things here.' Gently, Sechen lifted the khahan in his arms.
'Then get him to his tent. He needs rest,' Koja urged.
'By your word, it shall be done,' answered Sechen. 'But you will come with me.' Sechen nodded to the standard-bearer. 'He will tell the prince what has happened.' Koja struggled to his feet and helped Sechen hoist the khahan into his saddle. Yamun barely opened his eyes.
'Oh, yes,' Koja said, 'the wizard, Afrasib, lies over there. He helped the hu hsien and would have killed Yamun. Right now, he cannot move, but he will recover soon. You might want to do something about him.' The standard-bearer looked at the oddly frozen figure on the battlefield and grinned unpleasantly. Before Koja could stop the man, the trooper ran over and neatly slit the spellcaster's throat.
'I've always wanted to do that to one of Bayalun's lackeys,' he coldly proclaimed. As Koja sat, stunned with horror, the standard-bearer mounted his horse and galloped away to inform Prince Jad of the khahan's condition.
'He should have kept the wizard alive to question him!' Koja shouted.
'Priest, the wizard got what all Bayalun's kind deserve. Just consider yourself lucky not to be among them,' Sechen grimly explained as he led their horses back to camp.
That night there was a council in Yamun's tent. Outside, the finest and most trusted of the nightguards ringed the yurt. Each was dressed in full armor and heavily armed. They were nervous and jumpy. Already several rabbits had died from rapidly fired arrows when they made a little noise in the bushes. The guards eyed each other as well. The rumors were already circulating through the camp-stories of treachery among Yamun's bodyguards, whole cadres of wizards, and evil monsters rising out of the ground.
Those inside the yurt were no less tense. The spacious tent was almost completely dark. A small iron pot of glowing red coals provided the only illumination, barely lighting the grim faces of the men present. Yamun lay on his bed, conscious but very weak. There was very little color in his face. Under Koja's supervision, he was covered with several layers of heavy felt blankets. Perspiration beaded on Yamun's brow as the priest tried to sweat the poison out of the khahan's system. Sitting on the rugs at the side of Yamun's bed were Jad and Goyuk, little more than dark shapes in the darker yurt.
Koja had spent the last hour carefully telling his version of the day's events. Jad sat with his head bowed to the floor. Goyuk nodded as he considered the priest's words. Koja, now finished describing how he had treated the khahan's wounds, sat silently with his hands on his knees, waiting for the others to speak.
'It is good to have gods on your side, even if they are the gods of strangers,' Goyuk said in a rambling tone. It was very late and the day had been long. Fatigue was showing on the old khan's face; his eyes drooped and he slumped as if he were some exhausted vulture.
From his bed, Yamun sighed and focused on the big guard at the back of the yurt. 'Sechen, did it happen as the lama said?'
The guard shambled forward, nodding. 'What I saw is as the priest said, Khahan,' the wrestler answered, stiffly bowing.
'I remember the guard attacking and the wound,' Yamun added. He pushed himself up onto one elbow. 'Historian, you saved my life. Therefore, Koja of the Khazari, I ask you to be my anda.' Yamun weakly extended a hand to the priest. There was a gasp from the group.
'Great Lord! I–I am not worthy of this,' Koja stammered, his face reddening with embarrassment.
'That's not for you to say. I choose who will be my anda.' Yamun pushed his shaking hand out toward Koja.
'Father!' protested Jad. 'You are weak and need rest. Think on this later.'
Yamun growled, 'Be silent, my son. Koja saved my life and that has earned him the right.'
'Yes, Khahan,' Jad replied, cowed.
Yamun looked toward Goyuk to see if he had any objections. The old khan only sucked on his gums, keeping his counsel to himself. The khahan shifted his gaze back to the lama.
'Well, priest?'
Koja took a breath to steady himself. 'I cannot argue with your wishes. I am greatly honored. I accept.' He took the khahan's hand.
'Then we are anda. From this day, you are Koja, little brother of Yamun.' He gave the priest's hand a weak squeeze and then dropped his arm. 'From now on you must call me Yamun.'
Koja looked at the others. Goyuk was unreadable, his old, lined face barely betraying any emotions. Sechen looked stern as always, but there was a glimmer of respect in his eyes. The prince's brow was furrowed with concern, and he avoided the gaze of the priest. Koja was not sure if he was upset or merely confused.
'The men have fought well today,' Yamun continued weakly. 'Jad, report on the battle.' He closed his eyes and let a ragged breath escape his lungs.
The prince roused himself, putting whatever thoughts he had to the back of his mind. 'Father, your plan succeeded. The foot soldiers followed the riders into the trap, and Goyuk and I were able to surround them. The khans have taken many prisoners.' Jad bowed slightly toward his father, who was not watching.
'What of losses? Shahin's men?' whispered the stricken khahan.
'Goyuk and I lost few men. The foot soldiers couldn't catch us, and we simply shot arrows at them until they surrendered. Your men did not fare badly, though they lost more because they were involved in the heaviest fighting. Shahin's tumen has lost many brave warriors, Great Lord. More than half of his men are killed or wounded.' The youth waited for some word from his father.
'Not too bad,' Yamun commented with a sigh. 'Give the prisoners the choice of service or death. Those that join us are assigned to Shahin's command.' He coughed a little and then wheezed out the rest. 'What about Manass? The governor?'
'He was cowardly and did not come out, Father. Our messengers have already delivered the heads of his generals. I thought you would want this done,' Jad answered, sliding closer to the bed. 'He sends back messages
